


Possession

by TheBiPenguin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBiPenguin/pseuds/TheBiPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BHHS kicks arse at Lacrosse, winning a major inter-school tournament, so they go to get WASTED! </p><p>Stiles' possession might be a finely tuned skill, Derek's is a little messier. So when he gets an SOS from Scott, he's not entirely sure how to handle it. </p><p>But he tries his best and Stiles gives him bonus points for effort.</p><p>It's fluffy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winning

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the UK so I have no idea how lacrosse is played. However, our drinking age is eighteen here so that's why I've written about high school students (Our college/sixth form. We call College University. I don't know how widely known that is?) going to a nightclub. 
> 
> Just FYI our age of consent is actually sixteen, so Stiles has actually been legal for a while here...
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy! :D All feedback appreciated xx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BHHS wins a major lacrosse tournament! The team decide to go celebrate.
> 
> Stiles+Alcohol=bad idea.

Stiles couldn't believe they'd won! 

BHHS had been steadily climbing the league table for the past few years now as successive year groups raised the bar and pushed the boys below them to train harder and match them. Even so, to get into the final came as a massive surprise. No one expected them to win it. Stiles' dad, Derek and Melissa had each put a twenty on them as a statement of faith (One they were actually pretty pleased about now.) but realistically there was a reason their odds had been 5-1. 

Stiles had no idea how they pulled it off. The team had been on fire, ducking and passing as though they were one mind. The other team had looked uncoordinated and mechanical by comparison. It was a narrow victory, for sure, but, it was a victory nonetheless! 

What was less surprising was when Jackson suggested that, in true sportsman tradition, they go and drink their weight in beer. Only, that little celebration, which had started in a now slightly shell shocked pub near the stadium, had now migrated into the closest nightclub Allison, Lydia and Erica could direct the boy's staggering feet towards, 

Which is how Stiles found himself in his current state. Not that he wasn't having a great time, he was having the time of his life, but, somewhere in the back of his mind he felt that something wasn't right. Scott looked all worried and frowny, Lydia was looking at him disapprovingly and Jackson was laughing his arse off. 

He ignored it. He could ask them later. Plus, if they didn't wanna throw themselves into the party and have the most fun they could, that was their business. But, Stiles was.

He definitely was. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Derek had no intention of following the rest of the pack down to some club he'd never heard of (Who calls a place The Zone anyway? What is it, a car park?).

He was thrilled that they'd won, even more so now he was smugly a hundred bucks up while his cynical uncle had none. He and John had been punching the air and jumping about like they were the teenagers when the final minute had ended and now they were both exhausted. He and Peter had decided that they'd catch up with the young ones and tell them how pleased they were in the morning once they'd recovered and were spending the night in front of the TV instead. 

That hadn't stopped him sending them all a congratulatory text telling them to call if they ran into any trouble. He'd had Stiles in mind when he'd said that and they all knew it. He'd been acting up lately, training and studying all hours with dogged determination, refusing to lighten up and enjoy himself. Something was bothering him, only he refused to discuss it with any of them.

Whilst all the others had thanked him for his congratulations, Stiles had simply replied  **Sourwolf** when Derek had told him he wasn't coming.

Luckily, he trusted the others to make the call on Stiles' behalf if anything went wrong. Which was why the phone was already sitting screen up on the arm of the sofa beside him when Scott's message came through. 

**Can't control Stiles. Need you to collect.**

Peter had scoffed at that. "Can't control him. Stiles is a stick man. No, " He corrected himself. "A drunk stick man. How can they not control him?" 

Derek rolled his eyes heavily, "He is not. He's very athletic he just doesn't bulk up as easily as the others. Isaac's the same." He stretched his own densely muscled  arms and legs as he swung himself up to stand and headed to the kitchen to retrieve his car keys and get his shoes from beside the back door. 

"Want backup?" 

Derek laughed. It was true that no one could convince Stiles to behave, not even his dad. Make him behave, on the other hand. Derek was looking forward to that more than a little bit.

"I'm good." he yelled over his shoulder as he pulled open the door, the night's chill shaking a shiver from his shoulders. "Wouldn't wanna make you change out of your slippers old timer!" 

\---------------------------------------------

The Zone wasn't particularly hard to find. It was barely a quarter of a mile from the stadium. Derek was less than pleased at having to queue for fifteen minutes and pay to get in, reluctantly accepting the trashy purple stamp of the back of his hand. He was gonna give Stiles' hell for this one. 

The Zone's entryway was dark and carpeted, with a sticky carpet at that. Derek cringed as he made his way away from the overly threatening bouncers across to the large double doors which marked the entrance to the club's interior. As he stepped through he was blundered into sideways by two boys emerging from the toilets.

"Derek! Thank god you're here!" Scott looked at him like Derek was his salvation. He'd shown less relief when Derek arrived in the face of mortal danger. Whatever Stiles had got involved in must be seriously bad. 

"I don't see the problem." As his eyes adjusted, he realized that the second boy was Danny. The young man was swaying a little, a goofy smile on his handsome features. "He's single and he's having fun." 

"It's Stiles dude!" Scott visibly cringed. "He's being..." Whatever it was, Scott couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. "Derek. You gotta make him stop." 

Danny shrugged. 

"Where is he?" 

"Dancing." They both replied. Derek smirked a little, envisioning Stiles' long arms and legs flailing drunkenly to the over hyped beat that was vibrating up through the revolting carpet from the floor below. Danny laughed but Scott seemed thoroughly unamused. 

"I'll handle it. You guys enjoy your night."

That was all the excuse they needed, eagerly vanishing ahead of him down the steps towards the dance floor. By the time Derek got to the bottom to survey the room, they had vanished into the crowd of bouncing bodies, their identities obscured by the colored strobes. 

It was a fairly large room, people could have moved around each other quite easily, but they weren't. A small proportion of people were queued at the bar while others danced and chatted further off. The majority, however, were gathered, drinks in hand, others clapping to the beat or snapping pictures or videos on their phones, around a high circular stage. It was lit brighter than the rest of the room, in the same luminous purple as the bar. Derek saw a flash as one of the lights was reflected off a tall, silver pole mounted between the stage floor and the ceiling. 

In the already stuffy room, Derek's blood pressure shot up to boiling when he saw the face of the boy on the stage. Stiles'  jeans were hung low on his hips, his shoes and T shirt discarded somewhere out of sight. His lean muscles rippled as he spun, arms outstretched, a few feet above the stage, mounted on the pole by the strength of his thighs alone. 

Derek watched in amazement as Stiles flipped and twirled, lifting himself high and then sliding sensually down, each time in a different position, to grind against the stage floor erotically, the material over his rump pulling taught to outline his defined gluteals.

Where had he even learned how to do that? 

Wherever he landed, he opened his mouth wide and one of the cheering crowd poured some of whatever drink they were holding down his throat. He pecked them on the cheek in thanks before sauntering back to the pole, flashing the crowd a wink before beginning his next move. Over and over he repeated the sequence, each time with a different spin and sliding pose.

He had a grace and strength Derek had never known he possessed, all the stress of the previous weeks and inhibitions stripped away in his inebriated state. Derek was in awe. He looked incredible.

That amazement turned to rage as his stunned brain put the image of Stiles and the behavior of the crowd together. Men and women, some young and some far less so, were vying for a spot at the front, trying to reach up to stroke Stiles' toned physique as he slid and rolled passed them, legs spread wide and toes pointed in an impressive display of flexibility, which Derek found extremely arousing.

Clearly, he wasn't the only one. 

Perched on the railings behind the stage, Derek belatedly caught sight of Isaac, cheering Stiles on with gusto. He caught Derek's glare and his clapping hands went still, his face falling, suddenly serious.

He tried to shout to Stiles, to warn him of Derek's arrival, but, Stiles was oblivious.

Derek was just one in the sea of sweaty, horned up bodies stood before him. Stiles was beginning to get slow, though, the alcohol forcing him to make each move more deliberately than the last. 

He lay on his back. His legs were still wrapped around the pole but his head hung off the edge of the stage, mouth open as an over tanned, thirty-something year old guy in an obnoxiously expensive looking white Lauren polo and sunglasses perched on his head, poured something colorless out of a large bottle into it.

It was obscenely phallic, the guy even whooped when eventually Stiles gagged and held up a hand for him to stop. As he rolled over and swung around to lay prone and away from the crowd, over-tan slammed one hand down on his buttock, hard and gave it a squeeze strong enough for Derek to see his fingers dig into the toned muscle from across the room.

Stiles just laughed and shoved the guy away playfully before standing back up with a wobble and turning his back on him, reaching for the pole again. 

That snapped Derek out of his trance. He almost roared across the room.

He shoved through the sweaty crowd, ignoring their protests and spilled drinks and hauled himself onto the stage, drawing himself to full height and puffing out his chest as Stiles turned to face him. The relaxed, happy crinkles around his eyes vanished as they saw Derek and went wide. Derek let him take in his full, imposing stature for a moment before tackling him to throw him over one shoulder.

The crowd groaned and jeered in disappointment.

Stiles slender form flailed and thrashed against him, but to no avail. Derek ignored the light fists beating against his back as he jumped to the ground and strode back through the parting crowd towards the exit, carrying the wriggling and furious Stiles with him. 


	2. The talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get heated...in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Smut with a capital S.
> 
> If you would like to avoid and go straight to fluffier ground please skip ahead to Chapter 3. It should still make sense.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy xx

Stiles stopped thrashing as soon as Derek dumped him into the Camero. He seemed to just accept defeat with the shut of the door, not that that meant he was happy about it. 

He didn't speak, didn't move, didn't anything for the whole journey. He just sat there, arms tightly folded across his bare chest.

Scratch that, as Derek turned away from the town and back out towards the preserve, he did say "Take me home, you bastard." 

Derek's claws and fangs were just beneath the surface, his knuckles white on the wheel. It took all his self restraint to calmly remind Stiles that he didn't live with his dad anymore, he lived with Derek and the rest of the pack.

Stiles hadn't replied. He hadn't forgotten, but, he'd still meant his dad's.

That stung.

He wobbled barefoot and topless from the car to the house, seemingly unaware of the cold. Derek followed more slowly, willing his pulsing anger to abate, He closed the front door just as Stiles reached the bottom of the stairs, leaning heavily on the rail and was about to disappear up to bed. 

"Stiles." The Alpha command froze the boy's legs mid stride. "Come back here." 

Stiles turned and laughed incredulously, his lips drawn back in a vicious snarl. "How dare you?!" He hissed. "How fucking dare you?! You just show up and drag me back here and **_now_ ** you wanna start giving me orders." 

Derek squared up to him as calmly as he could. Stiles was shaking, whether from cold or from barely contained fury Derek couldn't tell. The scent coming off him was a pretty strong sign though. 

"You can't behave like that Stiles, it's-"

"I _**can't**_?!" Stiles was yelling in Derek's face, his words infused with the sheer volume of alcohol he'd been given. "Why the hell not?!" 

Derek stuttered. He didn't actually know why he found Stiles' behavior so provocative. He just did. It triggered something instinctive in him that had screamed at him so hard to go and get Stiles back out of danger that he hadn't felt his body or brain had been given any say in the matter.

Stiles wasn't impressed by his slack jawed silence, raising his eyebrows in an aggressive prompt.

"Want this?" Peter appeared out of the kitchen, throwing Derek a small vial of blue liquid before vanishing away from under Stiles' glare again. 

"Drink this." He held the vial out. 

Stiles tried to swat it from his hand, his arm swinging in a wide, clumsy arc, which through his whole body forwards. Derek moved the vial out of its' path with ease and caught Stiles' weight in his arms to stop him hitting to floor. 

"Fuck you." He shoved himself up again roughly to lean back against the banister. 

"Stiles! Drink." Derek's eyes flashed. Reluctantly, Stiles accepted the vial and stiffly swallowed its' contents.

Derek folded his arms and waited a moment as he saw Stiles' swaying stop and the smell of alcohol receded to nothing. 

"Feel better?" he quirked an eyebrow smugly. Stiles' recovery felt like it should've been the end of the fight. Which was why he was too slow to dodge the smack that caught him across one ear and rang loudly across his brain to is' neighbor. 

"Fuck you!" he repeated. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Derek growled, low and warning "I'm your alpha and it's my job to protect you. Stiles, did you even see the way those guys were behaving towards you?!" He was yelling as well now. "You were in no state to defend yourself if one of them had decided to get forceful with you and you were encouraging them, you idiot! You can't do that!" 

"Why not?!" Stiles through his hands up. 

"Because it's not safe! Because you're--" Derek faltered again. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't.

It wasn't technically true, Stiles wasn't his, they weren't dating, no matter how badly he wished that they were. 

Stiles shook his head, a bitter smirk on his lips. "Yeah, that's right. I'm single and I can do what I like. You ever grow a pair and decide to actually give us a go, then I'll start giving a damn about what you think of my behavior." 

Stiles turned to storm off and Derek snapped. He seized Stiles' wrist, spinning him back to face him and slamming their bodies against the back wall. He heard the air rush from between Stiles' lips at the impact, his face a mask of shock as Derek's mouth suctioned onto his neck. He took both Stiles' wrists in one hand and pinned them over his head as the other held Stiles' body against the wall so his mouth could work over every inch without him moving, nipping and sucking as he mapped out the edges of Stiles' peck, the lines of his collar bones, the undulations of his ribs, memorizing his anatomy by taste. 

He allowed Stiles to get one hand free. It flew instantly to the back of Derek's neck, urging him on and pressing his nose and teeth harder against his soft skin. The second joined it as Derek was force to let them go so he could kneel down and kiss a line down Stiles' abdomen, pressing his thumbs into his exposed hip bones hard enough to leave impressions on his skin.

Stiles moaned. It was a bone deep, guttural sound and Derek felt his whole body jolt in response. Turning Stiles away from him by the waist he bared his claws long enough to tear the denim from him, running his hands over Stiles' smooth buttocks. Stiles reached behind him to tug at the collar of Derek's T shirt. He stood, pulling it over his head and discarding it before scooping Stiles up, bridal style and carrying him upstairs. 

He threw his naked boyfriend onto his bed, Derek's bed.

He wanted Stiles on his sheets, where he was in charge. He wanted to mate him, again and again and again until the whole room smelled of their rutting. Seizing his ankles, he rolled him so his was prone in the middle of the mattress, opened his legs wide and lifted him by the waist onto his knees so his spread buttocks were high in the air, his face down against the pillow. Derek looked closely at where over-tan had groped Stiles, his breath hot on his bare skin. He was pleased to see there was no mark, yet. 

Bracing Stiles pelvis with one hand, he rose the other above his head and brought it down on said buttock as hard as he could. Stiles cried out in surprise, jumping in Derek's grip, but, Derek was the stronger. He smirked in satisfaction as he saw the red hand print forming. His hand print. His mark. Because Stiles was  ** _his_**.

Not satisfied, he slipped both hands around to the front of Stiles' thighs and pulled him back towards him as he stuck his tongue out wide and ran it up his perineum, between his cheeks and dug in between them greedily. Stiles made an obscene, choked noise against the pillow as Derek scraped his rough stubble over the soft skin between his cheeks, leaving it reddened. Stiles reached around to press the back Derek's head deeper, but, his alpha caught it and pinned it against the small of his back, leaving his fingers wriggling desperately to reach him.

He was going to mark Stiles every way he knew how. And he knew a lot of hows. Maintaining his grip on his thighs he suckered onto the red circle where his palm had struck, pinching the deliciously tender flesh between his teeth, turning it into a deep purple bruise. 

Satisfied, he pulled him off the edge of the bed, letting him fall with a excited laugh onto the carpet. 

"On your knees." 

Stiles looked like a naked angel, kneeling to pray. His eyes were wide with mock innocence, smiling up into Derek's earnestly.

Derek stuck his thumb into Stiles' mouth, He sucked it dutifully, never breaking their eye contact. Derek smiled, withdrawing and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Stick out your tongue."

He slapped the head of his cock down onto Stiles' outstretched tongue, giving him a taste of the pre-come he'd had him leaking for him ever since he'd seen him dancing in The Zone, before wrapping one hand around the back of his neck to hold him still and ramming against the back of his throat without warning. Stiles' eye watered but he managed, his soft lips bruising against his own teeth as Derek pumped into him. Derek felt long fingers digging into his buttocks, urging him deeper as his balls slapped against Stiles' chin over and over.

It felt incredible. He looked down into the face of the man he'd come to care so much about, still looking up at him adoringly as his cheeks hollowed, his lips spread around Derek. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. 

He felt his orgasm beginning to build. He pulled out and hauled Stiles to his feet by his underarms, refilling his mouth with his tongue. He tasted salty. Perfect.

"You still think dog jokes are funny?"

Stiles smiled widely, laughing as Derek turned him around and shoved him back onto the bed, Stiles was already on the same page and fell automatically to his hands and knees. Derek grabbed a bottle of lube from his desk and hastily pressed a finger straight into him, laughing as Stiles bucked in surprise. Derek added a second and scissored them inside him for a moment before settling his knees just inside of Stiles'.

He laid his fingers over his own previous marks on Stiles' hips, nudging his legs wider still, supporting his slight frame in his hands as he drove into him. There was no starting off slow, no gentleness. Derek had no self control left and as Stiles' soft warmth wrapped around him it took control of his body from him. He slammed into him relentlessly, the sharp slap of their skin like music to his ears. Stiles cried out, his lips parted in a euphoric grin. 

He tried to drop his head to bite the pillow, to muffle his cries. Derek leaned forward and took his hair in one hand and lifted him to up so his torso was horizontal again. Pressing the other hand to the small of his back, he arched Stiles' back, altering the angle their bodies joined at. Stiles choked out an incomprehensible shuddering noise. It was the loudest he'd made yet.

Derek wanted him to be loud, wanted to hear him, wanted everyone to hear him so the whole world would know that Stiles was his. 

"Fuck!" Stiles breathed the word like a sacred prayer and it made Derek feel like a god. It took all his strength of will but he brought his thrusts to a stop. 

"What was that?" He smirked, even though Stiles' couldn't see it, his tone was smug, cocky even.

"Fuck me!" Stiles was pleading, trying to buck back against him, but Derek's grip held him in place. 

"Sorry?"

"Please, Derek!" Stiles was yelling desperately, begging "Please just fuck me! Derek, please." 

"Anything for you, baby." Derek released Stiles head, letting it fall forwards as his hands slid down his arched back to grip his narrow hips again as he resumed his brutal pace, slamming their bodies together with all the speed and strength he could muster. 

"Oh, Fuck. Yeah!" Stiles was still yelling, shamelessly now. "Don't pull out, Der! Please, finish inside me! Let me have it!"

Derek felt the heat building in him, there was just one more thing he needed. "Say it." he huffed, his breathing ragged with exertion.

"I'm yours, Derek, I swear! I'm all yours! Please!" Stiles muscles contracted as he came, squeezing Derek impossibly tighter.

That was all Derek could handle. He roared his claim on Stiles to the world as the heat flooded from his body, filling Stiles'. He thudded against him a few more shuddering times before relinquishing his grip and letting him fall limply forwards onto the mattress, totally blissed out. 

He knelt, panting, for a few moments, savoring the sight beneath him, before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the suck bruise he'd left on Stiles' smooth buttock. Rolling off the bed to stand on the carpeted floor, he stretched out his spent muscles and headed into the bathroom for a cloth. 


	3. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, welcome to fluff central.

Stiles lay prone on the mattress, his muscles turned to jelly, unable to move. 

Well, that wasn't completely true. The muscles of his face were stretched into a broad grin, even while his eyelids remained too heavy to open. Derek had turned each one of his senses to mush and the only sensation he'd left him with was one of pure contentment.

In any other situation, full body paralysis would be a terrifying experience, as the kanima taught him well. 

Yet, he felt safer than he could ever remember feeling since all this supernatural bullshit began, laying completely exposed on Derek's bed. He was dully aware of a warm, rough sensation as he was wiped clean and dried again. Still he didn't move, not until he felt the duvet pulled up to his shoulders and was rolled over onto his side.

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him close until his head rested against Derek's shoulder. He snuggled in, anchoring himself by wrapping his own toned arms around Derek's muscled torso.

"That was..." he whispered. 

"Yeah." 

"I don't regret it." he squeezed, snuggling in deeper into Derek's warmth. 

"Me neither." Derek stroked his fingers up and down Stiles' spine. "It's not just going to be tonight, though, is it? We're going to do this properly, like, officially dating and everything, aren't we?" 

The gentle fingers of sleep began to probe into Stiles head, lending Derek's concerned tone a dreamy melody. 

"Definitely." he yawned.

The last thing he remembered was a soft kiss being pressed to his forehead. He hummed contently and felt a deeper, responding growl vibrate against the top of his head as his alpha tucked Stiles' head beneath his chin, keeping their bodies securely pressed together.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

When his eyes eventually opened, bright shards of light penetrated his brain, ricocheting around inside his skull. He hastily squeezed them shut again, his pulse throbbing in his temples. 

He groaned loudly and tried to roll over. His every muscle screamed in protest, he hastily complied and fell limp again, huffing out an exasperated breath. He felt bruised, inside and out. 

"Morning." A smug voice boomed in his ears. "How d'you feel?"  Derek's voice was dripping in condescending delight. 

"Piss off." 

"Now, now. Play nice. I have a present for you." 

Gingerly, Stiles opened his eyes and squinted up at the silhouette of his alpha against the morning glare. Derek was stood at the end of his bed, shaking a small vial of clear, blue liquid in front of his face.

"What's that?" His voice was thick in his throat, burning his vocal cords. 

"Alcohol reversing agent. You need another dose." Derek smirked at Stiles' puzzled expression. "I got Deaton to mix it up when you turned eighteen. Figured we'd need it sooner or later." 

Stiles let his eyes slide closed again and blindly made a grabby hand at the vial. Instead, he felt Derek's own strong hand take his and pull him up into a sitting position, sliding in behind him so he couldn't fall back down. Stiles slumped back against Derek's chest as his alpha wrapped his legs around him, one arm around his waist to keep him steady. 

"Lemme go." He whined. 

Derek's chuckle shook him painfully. "Open." 

Stiles complied, stretching his jaw wide and lifting his chin as Derek poured the liquid into his mouth. It ran smoothly down his throat, soothing him instantly. His pulse receded in his head, his muscle aches easing. He opened his eyes and stretched his arms above his head. 

"Better?" Derek murmured against the side of his neck. 

"Better." He nuzzled against the top of his head gratefully. "Except..."

"You can expect to be sore in a few places." Derek laughed, his lips stretching into a wide smile against Stiles' skin. "Until you get used to it. Wolves aren't known for their gentleness I'm afraid." 

"No." Stiles agreed. "I noticed that." 

"You seemed pretty happy about it at the time." 

"You owe me breakfast." he observed, sliding down Derek's chest until he could look skyward straight up into his smiling face. "You're my alpha now, Der. I need taking care of." 

Derek put his hands to his back and shoved him up off the bed. "C'mon then." He slapped Stiles' butt as he passed him, right where he'd left his mark. Stiles yelped in surprise, leaping forward to chase Derek down the stairs, failing miserably to keep up with his werewolf speed.

He came skidding to a halt at the kitchen door, Stiles, however, did not. He tackled Derek to the floor and together they rolled into the kitchen, laughing like a pair of schoolboys.

The pack were already at breakfast. The humans held their heads in their hands while the wolves looked perfectly fine, if not a little tired. All eyes turned to their alpha and emissary as they tumbled into the room. 

"Oh Jesus Christ!" Scott exclaimed, clamping his hand over his nose. "You could've showered." Jackson pulled an equally sour face, dropping his spoon into his cereal with a clang.

Stiles was too busy laughing to respond, rolling Derek over, straddling his waist and pinning his hands. He winked up at his friends. 

Isaac took a curious sniff of the air. "What do you-Oh my god!" 

The two girls lifted their sore heads from their coffee mugs to frown at each other quizzically, then at their boyfriends. "What?" Allison croaked. 

"They smell of..."Scott's puppy eyes were wide. 

"Sex." Lydia's makeup free face turned back to them. Even without it she was beautiful, like an avenging angel glaring down at them. 

Stiles sat back against Derek's raised thighs, ruffling his own messed up hair in a mock vogue impression. Derek tried to sit up, but Stiles shoved his chest back down against the kitchen floor. "Yeah, that's right bitches. I tamed your big bad wolf for you." 

Derek lifted one hand to Stiles' hip and pressed his thumb into the bruise there. Stiles gasped and leaned back, allowing Derek to sit up and shove him off so he could stand up and face the rest of the pack. Stiles remained on the floor, glaring up at him indignantly. 

Derek didn't notice, he was too busy going crimson from ear to ear in the face of his appalled looking pack. 

It was Lydia who spoke first, her voice like ice. "Derek." her eyes were wide with rage, all tiredness wiped from them in that moment of realization. "We called you to take Stiles home safely. He was in no state to-" 

"No, no, no." It was Stiles who responded, jumping to his feet as Derek's mouth hung open silently. "He gave me the blue thing." He snapped his fingers, he didn't actually know what it was called, if it had a name. Lydia raised her eyebrows at him, clearly she had no idea either. 

"The alcohol reverser." Scott chimed in. "We got it made up for you lot when you started turning eighteen, in case we got attacked while drunk." 

Allison kicked him under the table. "You have this thing and your letting us sit here and suffer?!" She croaked. 

Scott looked like a literal kicked puppy, turning to Derek for support "It was meant to be emergency only." 

Derek shrugged his athletic shoulders. "It was. I was gonna kill him otherwise." 

"More like I was gonna kill you." he corrected. 

"I don't care." The girls chorused. "Go get it!" 

Stiles laughed as a sheepish Scott abandoned his toast and scurried out of the room. In the resulting silence, Derek stepped up against Stiles' back, wrapping his arms round his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder, inhaling against his skin. 

"I smell that good, do I, Der?" Stiles laid his hands over his alpha's. Derek hummed. 

"You reek." Jackson's face was a picture. Derek lifted his mouth from Stiles' neck to shoot a smug grin at him. 

"Smell like mine." He confirmed. 

"And about time." Lydia tore an aggressive mouthful out of her toast. 

"You've smelled like pent up frustration for months." Scott confirmed, handing the girls a vial of the Alcohol Reverser each and settling back down in his chair. "Please tell me you're going to dampen down now?"

"Doubt it." Allison swallowed the liquid in one, crinkling her fair features in response "This tastes like mouthwash." 

"Works though." Stiles assured her, prizing Derek's arms open and moving towards the only remaining chair at the table. Derek yanked him back against him and locked his arms around him tighter. 

"No." he said simply, burying his nose in Stiles' hair. 

"Hey."

Stiles ducked under Derek's arms and dropped into the chair, wincing visibly as his buttocks hit the wood. Lydia rolled her eyes in mock disgust.

"I'm hungry and you promised me breakfast babe." He winked as the girls turned to observe Derek's narrowed eyes. After a tense moment he turned to the fridge to retrieve the bacon and eggs. 

Stiles admired his toned buttocks as he bent to reach the shelf. Once Derek had stood and moved to the cooker, he lost interest and decided to help himself to a slice of Scott's toast while he waited. 

"What?" he smiled innocently.


	4. Walkies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday and Derek wants to show off his new boyfriend. 
> 
> There's only one thing they've forgotten about...

Stiles polished off the last of his baked beans with a satiated sigh. 

"Thanks." He pecked Derek's stubbled cheek as he cleared their plates into the sink and headed back upstairs to shower. 

He stripped off his pajama trousers and stepped under the cleansing stream, feeling the sweat running off his body and leaving him fresh again. A power shower had definitely been a worth while investment. He kept his eyes closed against the splash as he rubbed shower gel into his hair and over his skin, inhaling the fresh lemon scent as he lathered it down his back and over his tender buttocks. 

He didn't register that the shower door had opened until he felt a heavy torso pressed against his slender frame, strong hands reaching down to rub over his flat abdomen.

"You'd better be the right wolf." He leaned back blindly against him. 

Derek growled over the noise of the water, his lips dragging over Stiles' ear. "Like Isaac would dare get in here with you." 

Stiles laughed, turning in his arms, opening his eyes once they were shielded beneath Derek's chin. "Getting posessive already?" he teased

"Territorial." his alpha corrected. 

\------------------------------------------------

The shower took them a full forty minutes, they got distracted. Getting dressed took another twenty. By the time they were back downstairs and ready to face the day, it was nearly eleven o'clock. 

"You got plans today, Der."

Derek took his hand in his and pulled him out the front door. "Park." 

Stiles had no idea why Derek wanted to go to the park, but, he could proudly say that he refrained from making a single dog joke. He walked under Derek's casually slung arm the whole way. He liked that, he thought he would have found it annoying but strangely it wasn't. 

They walked for over an hour along the river, grabbing an ice cream en route. Stiles had caved and made a dog joke at Derek's licking motion. Derek had retaliated by jogging his elbow, getting ice cream on the tip of his nose. Stiles had looked affronted for a moment until Derek pulled him close and licked it off in an exaggerated canine sweep of his tongue. That had made him laugh.

Derek made him laugh. Derek made him smile. Derek made him feel a lot of things he'd not felt in a long time.

Life in Beacon Hills had been more than a little crazy in recent years. Things had begun to stabilize now the whole pack were under one roof, but, Stiles doubted it would last once people started leaving for college. Disruption encouraged challengers. 

But, for now at least, he felt safe. Derek made him feel safe in a way not even Scott or his dad could. Even out in public, exposed, Stiles had total faith in Derek to protect him. They'd fight off the entire world together if they had to, they'd done it this far. 

These were worries for another day. Right now, Stiles was just enjoying walking in the sun with his alpha, his boyfriend. That was a strange and brilliant thought, one which made his cheeks pull upwards in a shameless grin. 

Clearly, Derek felt the same, if his matching expression was anything to go by. He liked Derek like this, free and uninhibited. This wasn't the brooding, sullen Derek he'd first met. That Derek had been saturated with guilt and had no emotional anchor to keep him steady. The Derek of now had a pack, understood that the past was the past and most importantly that wasn't his fault. 

Now he had Stiles, too. It seemed odd, especially when he thought about how hard he'd initially worked to convince Scott to keep Derek at arms length. He hadn't trusted him, hadn't understood.

Derek had worked hard to earn that trust. He was a great alpha, strong and gentle in perfect balance. 

All these things ran through Stiles' mind as they walked, the streets becoming busier as they approached the town centre. People were staring, everyone knew Derek Hale and walking down the street with an eighteen year old of the same gender under his arm was bound to gain attention. Neither of them cared. Derek was practically glowing, standing proud as though Stiles were some great trophy he wanted to display to everyone, people he didn't even know. 

He was of age, well over age. The six years between them didn't mean that they weren't doing anything wrong. Frankly, he was kind of surprised it had taken this long, like Scott had said, they'd been hung up on each other for months with no real idea how to approach it. 

They stopped for a while to rest and get a coffee before looping back around out of town and lazily beginning to climb the hill back towards the preserve. The early afternoon sun was intense and Stiles was overheated and out of breath belong long. Derek stepped in front of him and hoisted him up into a piggy back as though his weight was barely an inconvenience. Stiles snuggled down against his neck pressing his lips to the warm skin. 

All of a sudden, Derek came to a halt, his hands vanishing from under Stiles' thighs. He fell unceremoniously onto the pavement but remained on his feet, just about.

"What's up?"

Derek's face had fallen, his eyes wide. Stiles followed his gaze up the street to the only moving car in sight. A police cruiser. 

"Shit." He agreed. "We didn't tell dad." He jumped away from Derek as if he was on fire, trying to look inconspicuous. It had never been one of his greatest skills. 

"He's already seen us." Derek hissed. 

"You don't know that." he managed to force an innocent looking smile as he waved at his father. The cruiser pulled over and the engine's rough grumbling went quiet. 

"He's gonna shoot me!" Derek looked genuine afraid. Stiles took his hand and squeezed it. 

"He is not."

"I just slept with his son!"

"He can't smell like you guys can, remember. He has no idea." 

Derek huffed, clearly not convinced. Stiles' own confidence faltered as the imposing figure of his father strode towards them purposefully, heavy arms swinging.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Hi, dad." 

"Hi." His dad came to a halt barely two feet in front of them, his penetrating gaze shifting between his son and Derek. "You okay?" 

"Sure." he squeaked  "Why wouldn't I be?" 

The sheriff looked about as convinced by Stiles' answer as Derek had been when he'd insisted he wasn't about to get shot.

He knew. They didn't know how, but, he knew. 

"Scott rang."

Irritation momentarily overtook Stiles' distress in response to his best friends betrayal. 

"He told me you got pretty shit faced last night." He crossed his arms across his uniformed chest. 

"Oh." Stiles tried to look sheepish. "Er...yeah. It was a bit of a wild one." 

"Hmmm." His father's eyes narrowed disapprovingly. "He also told me that you two are a...thing, now." He raised an eyebrow at Derek expectantly. 

Derek's face flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet. All of his alpha gusto seemed to have fled. He put a tentative arm around Stiles' waist. "Yes." He cleared this throat. "Yes, Sir. We are." 

"Well." The sheriff shifted his weight on his boots. "Normally, I would've appreciated a heads up." Derek gulped, eyes wide. "But...you're a good guy...and I suppose you're..." his lips pursed as the he forced the concession from them. "...extra years of experience...might be a good influence." He turned back to his son. "From what I hear, Stiles' behavior last night needed some reining in and I'm pleased he has a responsible boyfriend to keep him out of trouble." 

Stiles rolled his eyes "I wasn't that bad." 

"You were."  

"Whose side are you on?!" he whined. Derek winked at him, his confidence returning. 

"I have no idea how I would've even approached the way Scott said you were acting." the sheriff shook his head in exasperation. "There are some things a father never wants to see." 

"Agreed." They chimed eagerly. 

That left them in what was a more than slightly awkward silence.

"Okay." The sheriff seemed suddenly satisfied. "Dinner tonight. Both of you. Be there at seven." And with that he turned, marched back to the cruiser and vanished down the street. 

Once he was safely out of sight, they let out a joined sigh of relief. "You okay there, Der?" 

His alpha nodded a little stiffly. "You were terrible last night." His voice was gentle. "I was really worried you were gonna get hurt. I know we've faced all sorts of supernatural shit and survived, but, that's no reason to put yourself in harms way for the fun of it. Especially not from creeps like that. You're worth more than that, Stiles. Please promise me you won't do it again." 

Stiles leaned into Derek's side, nuzzling his jaw, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I promise." he whispered. For once, he meant it. 

He did. He might've said things he didn't mean to get his dad off his back in the past, but, this was different. This was Derek. 


	5. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four years later.

Stiles was frazzled. 

The day he'd finished training and begun his dream job as a probation officer, ready to set the Wild Child Wannabes of Beacon Hills back on track before his dad ended up throwing them into the system when they turned eighteen, he'd been gunning for it. Now, he felt tired. 

Tired, but, satisfied. 

Which was a little strange when he thought about it. He hadn't gone off to college like he'd expected. Neither had Scott. He'd trained in the local PD, studying at home, while his best friend worked and studied at the veterinary clinic. They still lived together, up at the rebuilt Hale house, Lydia, Isaac and Jackson had come home to them as well after they graduated from college. 

It wasn't how he'd envisioned his life, pre-Scott's bite, but, it was pretty damn good. Better even. He had all his friends and his boyfriend under one roof. As well as his Dad and Melissa just down the road. It was pretty awesome, like a series out of Friends, just with more supernatural inconveniences. 

Either way, as Stiles drove back out into the preserve in the fading light, he felt distinctly happy about his life. He was only twenty-two after all, he'd come a long way already and he had another sixty years or so of milestones left to look forward to. 

And he'd get to reach each and every one of them with Derek. That made him smile the most.

He was so in love with Derek Hale it was beyond his own comprehension. He was just so...Derek! On his first day at work, Derek had cooked him a fried breakfast, ironed his uniform for him, made him a lunch to take with him and then been there waiting with his dinner when he'd got back, ready to hear all about it. He'd been adorably perfect. Stiles couldn't have loved him more than he had that day.

Which was why Stiles had a dumb looking grin on his tired face as he opened the front door and ditched his bag in the hallway. The house was dark, which seemed odd. He flicked the light switch but nothing happened. He paused for a moment, suddenly alert. 

Cautiously, he crossed the hall into the lounge, towards the only source of light he could see. A strong orange glow was emanating from the doorway. 

As he stepped into the room and took in his surroundings, his breath caught in his chest. 

The room was lined, along the windowsill, the coffee table, the top of the TV, every surface, with little white candles. In the centre of them all stood Derek, dressed in casual jeans and a close fitting black T shirt, looking like a retail model as always.

He looked as though he'd just seen a ghost. 

"Hey." He breathed, apparently Stiles wasn't the only one feeling suddenly tense. 

"Hey, Der." He crossed the room to peck his alpha on the lips, Derek barely moved to reciprocate but Stiles was satisfied to see some of the tension melt away from his shoulders in response. "What's the occasion? I didn't forget something special did I?" 

Derek shook his head without comment as he sank to the floor. Stiles momentarily thought he might be fainting, until he realized Derek had actually fallen to one knee, one of Stiles' hands still clasped between his own.

"Stiles. I love you more than words can say." Derek paused, seemingly looking for his words in Stiles' amber eyes.

Realization began strike. "I love you too." He squeezed Derek's hand reassuringly, his poor boyfriend looked positively ill, his wide eyes looking pleadingly up at him. He wanted to pull him close and kiss that worried expression away, but, he had to wait. 

"Marry me." 

Stiles didn't waste a second, dropping to his knees and throwing his arms around Derek's neck, pressing his stunned lips against his own grinning ones. 

"Told you, you had nothing to worry about." Lydia's voice appeared from the hall behind them as she and the rest of the pack crowded into the room, enveloping the newly engaged couple in a heap of embraced bodies. 

Their lips parted as they shifted to welcome their pack mates, all huddled together in a celebration of entwined arms and broad smiles. Derek nuzzled against Stiles' ear. 

"You really mean it?" 

Stiles laughed. "Of course I do. I love you, Der" 

He felt the warm huff of Derek's breath as he laughed as well, his relief palpable as his tense body softened in Stiles' grip.

"I love you too, baby."


End file.
